


All Fakes Of You

by pxncey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: General Hux Is Not A Nice Person, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylux - Freeform, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxncey/pseuds/pxncey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a silence, lasting for a while. Phasma turns her head a little, and Hux knows she's looking at him, but he doesn't take his eyes away from Kylo. He doesn't know why. He can't.</p><p>"Hux," Phasma says, with little hesitation, as usual. "I can easily ask one of the Troopers to send me his vitals." Her tone doesn't change from how it had been five minutes ago, but Hux knows what she's implying. She thinks she's doing something for him. She thinks he's weak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeraphStarshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphStarshine/gifts).



> title from PARQKS. dedicated to the lovely starr who i love to pieces and should really talk to more. ur SUPER.

It is hardly what Hux wants, to go out and search for Ren when the base is on the brink of collapse—or already partway there. Once the order is given, Hux will attempt no interference: he stiffens his shoulders and sets out into the snow, attending to his duty. The ground quakes with insurmountable fury, and Hux's stiff legs are shaken in his leather boots with every step. TR-3500 and TR-3521 follow him in mechanical synchronicity, the shock absorbers in their soles giving them every advantage over Hux save for his mental capacity. (There is little other reason why Snoke would send such a valuable asset out on such a volatile operation.)

Hux is not disobeying orders when he vehemently hopes to find Ren dead. He knows that the boy is truly worth little to the organisation, and that Snoke's continual need for him will cease abruptly as soon as it is realised that he has served all purposes he will be useful for, and proved himself as unreliable with his repeated failures. Snoke will hardly miss Ren once he understands what little use is held in him, now that he has been bested by a weak and untrained child.

Hux's feet sink deeper into the crumbling white ground the further he travels into the dense mesh of dead trees—a forest of wooden carcasses with split spines and broken limbs. He spits out a curse as the woods clear, and he comes across what is almost definitely Ren's body, bent into a terrible shape, with blood spattered over the snow around him.

As he hastily steps closer, his teeth gritted, he sees gleaming white gems glisten in Ren's dark hair, like a tiny system of stars and planets on the backdrop of a black hole. Hux is appalled that a micro-scene of such picturesque attractiveness has occurred on the head of such a terrible host. He touches the boy's head with his foot, and breaks the spell of the small galaxy in his hair.

Ren makes an aborted choking sound and his chest heaves, and Hux sniffs disdainfully. He adheres to the instructions he has been given, never straying from the order he has always known, and says, "He's still alive, take him to the shuttle immediately," to the Stormtroopers behind him, with great reluctance.

The Stormtroopers manoeuvre about, tugging on Ren's limbs and dragging him about in the snow, but they cannot seem to successfully lift him off the ground. Hux treads through the snow to assist them, but finds himself on the ground seconds later, interrupted by a shattering thud of immense gravity. The ground cracks beneath them, and in a blur of stretched lungs and heavy ash and snarled commands, the three of them drag Ren's long, cloaked body to the shuttle.

As Hux waits, his tightly gloved hands clasped in his lap, in the stifling, windowless shuttle, he sinks into the seclusion of his mind. There's little opportunity to think when you're in command of such great numbers of people, operations and transportation, and it's almost a reverie for Hux, to have nothing to do—but something about having no control twists under his skin, and soon he finds himself desperate to be back in the clean sliced walls of his authoritative position. He longs for his place on the control deck of the Starkiller again; he longs for efficiency.

A sense of loss settles heavy over Hux, like an ash cloud over a still world ready to be smothered. Gone is a time of control. The ruins of the Starkiller base drop cold into the pit of his stomach, pressing down his spark of ambition.

Hux opens his eyes, and looks at Ren. He's spread limply over the length of the shuttle bench on the opposite side to Hux, his face seared by a monstrous gash, the blood clotting thick and black in the orange hue of the emergency lighting. His limbs lie at odd angles, and his cloak and robes are a frayed tangle over his body. A sickly part of Hux wants to look at him like this forever: battered and ruined, skin slick and face torn, short trembling breaths quaking his body. He looks like some terrible, wretched embodiment of Death, so very weak, and so unavoidably purposeless. He is a perfect representation of himself.

—

"Don't dare do that pity thing," Phasma says. The droids are working on Ren in the medical bay of the Finalizer, and although it would appear easy to return to business as normal, Hux and Phasma don't seem particularly inclined to start planning attacks and defences again without Ren, and Snoke doesn't seem at all intent on calling any orders until Ren is well again.

Hux wrinkles his nose at the captain's sentiment, and taps at the screen in front of him. Filing doesn't count as work, filing is mediocre and unnecessary—and it's all he can do right now. "I'll have you know, it really is quite difficult not to pity the most piteous creature in existence."

"He isn't the Supreme Leader's pet, General," Phasma says. (For a moment, Hux thinks she's going to start defending Ren, and he feels the beginning of something hysterically close to incredulity form.) "He's the key to our success."

"He's got nothing to do with the Stormtroopers," Hux says sharply. "I don't see why you have any regard for him at all."

"I have regard for the Order, and you should too." Phasma stands up, and leans down to Hux. She always knows better than him, and she's well aware of it. "We need him." With that, she leaves the room, and leaves Hux staring at the empty meeting table and the window of stars in front of him.

—

Hux stands over the examination table, and stares purposelessly at Kylo's closed eyes. They're embedded deep in lilac shadows, and stray black hairs streak over them and the rest of Kylo's face. His hair is damp and so is his skin, despite the constant dabbing with a dry cloth that the med droids insist on. His wounds appear fresh even days later, and there is still shiny orange discharge surfacing and settling at the edges of the gash on his face.

Snoke demanded to be informed of Ren's condition now that he was in a stable setting. Hux is unsure that there is a word for how terrible Ren looks.

Hux doesn't jump when Ren's hand twitches. He watches, with a vague semblance of curiosity, and Ren gasps, although his eyes don't open. He's trembling, Hux notices. He wonders disconnectedly if the boy is cold: save for the bandages wrapped tightly around his abdomen, he's wearing only a pair of thin white leggings, and they barely reach his calves. He's breathing in rabid gasps, like a fatally wounded animal. It must bother him so terribly to be seen like this, Hux thinks.

One of the droids makes a strange cooing sound and starts dabbing persistently at Ren's forehead once more, and Ren groans quietly and his fingers flex again, like he's trying to reach out. Hux bats the droid away, hardly because of Ren's discomfort but to salvage his own sanity. The droid starts unwinding the thick bandages over Kylo's middle instead, and Hux watches as the blood becomes thicker with every layer unraveled.

Everything is ruined, Hux thinks belatedly, as the weight of what has happened settles heavily over him. All that he worked for is in ruins. He pulls his jacket tight around his shoulders, and leaves, barely managing to comprehend how truly broken everything is as he heads to his quarters. It's late, he knows, although it isn't as if he can tell from what he sees out the window. He can feel it: everyone working for the First Order has an impeccable sense of time, and he is no exception. He has never been an exception to anything.

On the way to his bunk, he passes Phasma again. She's not wearing her helmet, and her blonde hair is neat, and her face is composed. Hux wants to hope something terrible for her out of spite, for the sake of fairness—she has lost nothing at all, and it digs something horrible into Hux's gut—but he has never been good at spite unless it benefits him. All he does not want to touch has become terribly interweaved, and each move from now must be carefully controlled.

Hux lingers on the thought of the domino effect on him and his counterparts, thinking of what will happen to him if Ren dies. He knows little of medical science and what damage lightsaber wounds do, but he cannot ask the droids for information regarding Ren's condition for risk of losing his advantageous position—if it appears that you hold knowledge, then you do. He almost fears to even hazard a guess at his and Ren's horribly intertwined fates. Snoke will undoubtedly blame him for any mishaps, and he doesn't want to think about the consequences of that, but he cannot stop his mind from treading there.

He's going to die, he realises, if Ren dies. Snoke will decide that it is his fault, and will find some way to kill him. It's becoming unfortunately apparent to Hux that Snoke has an unreasonable material attachment to Ren, and though he treats him so terribly, it becomes clear when Ren is in danger how consistently important to Snoke's plans he is, and how much he is willing to sacrifice for the boy's sake. Hux despises that about Ren, among other things—how easy it is for him to get people to work for him, even people above his control. Hux half worked himself to death to reach the position he holds now, he has earned the stripes on his jacket, while Ren is simply handed it, for an uncontainable talent in a dead art.

He must let it stay that way though, if he is to get anywhere in this organisation. The order of things cannot be disrupted.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hux next visits Kylo to see if he has died yet, he finds him awake, being force fed some awful luminous gelatinous dish from what looks like a child's dinner tray by the irritating forehead-dabbing droid. The gash on his face is mostly dried up, no longer wet or hideously red, and Hux feels almost disappointed.

"Hux," Kylo says, twisting away from the droid as it prods his mouth with the spoon. "Get this withered droid away from me."

Hux finds himself bending to Kylo's will just for sheer tiredness, and he ushers the droid away again. He sits down in the seat beside the med table, and Kylo makes an irritated sound and rolls over. Then he tenses quite sharply, and Hux hears his breath turn strangled, like there is something in his throat, and he doesn't roll any further—he's in pain.

"Turn around," Hux insists, when Kylo doesn't move on his own. He can't believe that he has to tell the boy these things. Does Snoke know, he wonders, how inherently stupid Kylo can be? He has power—it's clear, undeniably clear that he has power—but it's also clear that he completely lacks any vague semblance of intelligence. "You're going to make yourself worse."

Kylo doesn't move. He definitely isn't unconscious, despite the fact that the drugs he's on ought to have knocked him out for days. Hux considers forcing him, if he's going to be stubborn, but he knows it's not the time for coercion. Not to mention that Snoke would be furious if Kylo ever told him—which, of fucking _course,_ he would.

"Ren," Hux snaps. "Don't make me send for that droid again." Kylo sighs in response to that, and settles on his back. "The way you're acting you'd think you didn't want to get better."

There's no reply. Kylo has closed his eyes. Hux hopes he not pretending to be asleep; he'd thought that even Kylo wasn't that childish. "Maybe I don't," Kylo says after a minute. He doesn't open his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Hux asks. His surprise doesn't show through in his tone of voice, but it's there, in his thoughts, in the subtle set of his eyes. There's an unpleasant settling in his stomach, when he realises that Kylo wants it to hurt, wants it to scar. He wants to be like Vader. He's desperate to have an excuse to wear his helmet—a valid reason in the place of _aesthetic_. "Ren," Hux says, almost a snarl. He finds himself dragging the chair back and standing, above Kylo, always above him. "You let this organisation down." He wraps his jacket tight around his shoulders, and spits, "Scum," at Kylo, before he leaves, swiftly, just like last time.

—

He doesn't know why he returns to the medical bay. And in the dead of night, of all the possible times to choose from. (Nothing changes on the Finalizer at night—Troopers carry on training, officers march the halls and work incessantly on the location of the girl, the stars continue to shine and no one pays them any attention. Hux knows the time though, the precise time. The soldier in him can feel it.)

The air is somewhat charged between Hux and Kylo. Kylo is asleep, but his dreams are surrounded by static, and he dreams so loudly that the white noise overflows into Hux's mind.

Despite the buzz Kylo gives out that wrecks Hux's thinking patterns, Hux likes Kylo better when he's sleeping. He can't cause any trouble, or break any more valuable parts of Hux's ship—and no one can reward or punish him for being asleep. It's a beautifully serene state of equilibrium.

"Plus he can heal," Phasma says from behind him. Hux doesn't turn around. As per usual, he does not let himself react.

"I'm sorry, did my quiet introspection disturb you?"

"I couldn't sleep." Phasma shrugs. Hux can't see her, but he knows she would be shrugging right now. He wonders briefly if she's wearing her mask. She's always so much warmer without it—not that warm is something that Hux wants— _warm_ is just so much easier to deal with, so much easier to spit on and climb above. It's easier to be strong when others are weak. And now that his entire organisation is crumbling to the ground just because of one emotional little boy, Hux needs to feel unbreakable. Phasma taps her belt. "And your thoughts are loud enough that a deaf bantha from the Outer Reaches could hear them."

Phasma's not Force sensitive, Hux knows for sure, but that doesn't mean that she has no intuition.

Phasma steps a little closer to Kylo, so that's she's in Hux's peripheral vision. He notices that she's not wearing her helmet, and he wonders why he originally cared. "He looks pretty fucked up," Phasma says. "You sure a kid with no training did this?"

"That's what he told the Troopers," Hux muses. "You should know."

There's a silence, lasting for a while, after that. Phasma turns her head a little, and Hux knows she's looking at him, but he doesn't take his eyes away from Kylo. He doesn't know why. He can't.

"Hux," Phasma says, with little hesitation, as usual. "I can easily ask one of the Troopers to send me his vitals." Her tone doesn't change from how it had been five minutes ago, but Hux knows what she's implying. She thinks she's doing something for him. She thinks he's weak.

Niceties are not standard here; there is always an ulterior motive, and there is always someone on higher ground. This is the sort of thing Hux expects goes on in the resistance. But Hux needs to know: there is an unpleasant and lurking part of him that just needs to know these things about Kylo, needs to be able to advance ahead of him and prepare for when he might come crashing forwards, and when he might bring Hux down with him. "Please," he says crisply. "Snoke has been asking, and I was unsure of how to go about procuring the information." A smooth lie, leaking from his mouth like any other sentence. Phasma can tell no difference.

"It's not like you to be unsure about something," Phasma says. Hux thinks he sees a hint of a smirk.

"No," Hux agrees. "That's why you're going to fetch me the statistics right now. Then I'll be sure again."

Hux closes his eyes, and presses his thin lips together. He hears the rustle of Phasma's cape, and then he's alone again. No matter how confident Phasma is in herself, she will never forget that she is below Hux.

—

Hux looks over the statistics the Trooper brings him when he's in his quarters. He's close to startled when he catches the word septicaemia tossed in along with all the minor ailments in the paragraph. Ren should be being monitored at all time, should be constantly taking in fluids and antibiotics intravenously. He needs intensive care or he is going to die, and Hux can't recall there being any droids in the med bay with Ren when he left, nor when he arrived.

He leaves his quarters immediately without giving it much thought, and tells the first Stormtrooper he sees to send a few new droids down to Medical to administer the proper treatment and keep an eye on Ren like they're supposed to. He's almost outraged at the fact that his own droids are doing such a terrible job at being ordered in an organisation focused completely on order.

Hux considers going back to his chambers, but honestly, he knows that the job won't be done properly if he leaves it to a Trooper alone. He sends an order for the current medical droids to be disposed of, prays that the new ones won't be as incompetent, and leaves for the med bay himself. (It isn't like he would have slept well anyway. He's a soldier: he feels these things.)


	3. Chapter 3

Kylo is writhing on the table when Hux comes in, and for a second he suspects a seizure, before he realises that Kylo is asleep—this is a nightmare. The great knight of Ren is having a nightmare.

(He almost laughs, but he knows that Kylo is probably dying and that's not a fitting thing to do.)

Hux doesn't think to wake him at all, and instead sits down next to the med supply closet and lets his mind stray while he fumbles with bags of IV fluid and needles and saline. (Hux has no medical training, but he's clever and he knows it—knows it'll be enough to keep Ren alive.) What sort of things could Ren possibly dream about? What does he fear? (Over and over Ren had tried to convince Hux that he had no fears, but Hux knows a lie coming from Kylo’s mouth when he sees it. Everyone has fear, even himself, even the unbreakable Captain Phasma. Hux is sure of it. Although most, or perhaps all of his fears involve demotions, and he isn’t sure that that would be the sort of thing that would leave one writhing in distress.)

"Leia," Kylo forces out, and breathes a strained breath. _"Leia."_

Hux smiles thinly. The boy dreams of his dear mother. He wonders how heartbroken she is after what Ren has done, and if she will ever forgive him. He presumes not; that is most likely why Snoke ordered him to do it. Perhaps Kylo can feel it. Perhaps that is Kylo's fear. He hopes so: he could use that.

Hux hooks the bag onto a stand and holds down Ren's arm, ignoring his groans as he starts to wake up. He presses the needle into his forearm, and Ren makes a shocked noise and snatches his arm away, then clutches at his head when the pain hits him. Hux realises he's probably entirely ignorant of his condition. He's conscious, but completely stupid, and rather distracted by what Hux has done to him. "How dare you," Kylo hisses, vicious as ever, but Hux can tell he's already losing him to his fever. "I don't need your—your _hands_ all over me. What do you think we have the med droids for?"

"You imbecile," Hux says. "You know those droids are completely incompetent. They were going to leave you to die."

Kylo's eyes drag over Hux's hands, examining how he'd been treated. He won't accept that Hux was actively helping him, but he will accept the droids' uselessness. "Bastard," Kylo mutters. "You could have woken me up first."

Hux doesn't make an effort to reply to that. He does what he came here to do: make sure Ren doesn't die. He firmly presses his fingers to the inside of Kylo's arm and tapes down the needle. Kylo's skin is warm, radiating heat, and Hux's hands are cold and stiff, but Kylo does not move away this time. The monitor hums quietly, and Hux can feel Kylo trying to pry into his head. He puts little effort towards resisting.

_"Bastard!"_ Kylo spits again after a moment. He knows. "That was not your business to watch."

"It wasn't your business to dream of," Hux says. His grip on Ren's arm becomes firmer, and he can feel his warmth seeping under his skin. He wonders if Ren is always this warm, or if it is just a result of the fever. The needle is fastened, and he drops Ren's wrist, along with the thought. "I'll be glad to see how Snoke feels about this when he finds out."

And Kylo says nothing more, just tugs the IV stand close to the table, and hauls himself up into an abomination of a sitting position by the counter, so he can stare at Hux. His mouth is twisted into a snarl, and his hands are shaking. Every moment or so his lip trembles. Hux pities him for his blatant lack of control.

Ren reaches ahead of him at nothing and sharply curls his hand into a claw, like he's grasping at something, but it isn't until a second later that Hux feels it—he feels Kylo's rage swimming in his head, his fingers tight on his throat, he can feel the air thrumming all around him and he is _suffocating_. Perhaps Kylo does have power over him, Hux admits, but he will never be able to utilise it in such a way to truly disturb Hux's resolve. Hux wouldn't let that happen.

The whole room is buzzing with the energy from Kylo's furious power surge—the overhead lights pulse and shatter; the chair at Hux's side creaks, and the metal warps and snaps completely—but Hux merely lets his body react to the onslaught, while his mind does not stir. He breathes in nothing and his limbs cease their blood flow, his throat crackles with dry gasps, and within a minute, Ren seems rather sated, when Hux is coming to a collapse. He lets go, and rolls over onto his side complacently, and Hux falls to his knees, bruising them on the metal grating of the floor, and clutching the cabinet so hard his knuckles turn white.

With a growl, Hux rises to his feet, stumbling, but steadfast in his fury. Kylo's attack has had no effect on him—save for anger. He wants to turn on his heel and leave like every other time Ren has made a disgrace of himself trying to take him down, but he has to keep watch over him in case his condition progresses. It’s a degenerative case, and although Kylo seems to hold himself in such high esteem that he believes he is immortal, unless Hux can get his organs flushed of infection quickly, he is most definitely going to die.

It's simple, clean logic that Hux should just stay with Kylo for the rest of the night in the med bay, but the idea is frightfully unstimulating, and not at all conducive of the sleep Hux requires to function smoothly, especially now that the chair is gone. It's through fault of Kylo's own that Hux injects him with a sedative the moment he's asleep, and hauls his unconscious body to his chambers. It's Hux's lapse in hostility, however, then means Kylo is given the bed.

Hux strips the bed of the duvet (a sturdy mattress is more than Kylo needs to sleep well, especially since he has a fever and layers would probably worsen his condition) and lays it out flat on the floor in line with the bedposts. He takes his greatcoat off, and sacrifices its perfect weighted smoothness so that he can have a blanket. (He will iron it again later.)

It's several hours before Hux wakes up after that, and he's still cold, but not cold enough that it will keep him up if he tries to sleep again. The nagging duty of changing Ren's IV fluid is tapping at his head, however, so he does not roll over and close his eyes like he knows is best for his functioning. He folds back his coat neatly, and lifts a new fluid bag from the tray he wheeled to his room. Ren doesn't seem to notice as he changes the IV, but he stirs in his sleep constantly even when Hux is finished, shivering like he's cold all of a sudden. Hux assumes that chills are a part of the fever, but he takes Ren's temperature and he really is cold, and Hux isn't quite sure what to do with that. He reluctantly covers Ren with his coat, and goes back to sleep on the floor curled smaller than is really necessary. He is feeling something, and it crawls under his ribcage, so close to his heart, in a way that makes him want to suffocate it out of his chest.

He doesn't sleep after that, and it isn't the cold keeping him up. He doesn't want to think about what it is.

Around an hour later, Ren is tossing about in Hux's bed again, and Hux gets up and takes his temperature needlessly. He's burning up: he can't regulate his temperate in the slightest. He moans and kicks weakly at Hux's crumpled coat until it is no longer covering him, and Hux promptly lifts it off Ren's feet and wraps it around himself. Ren may be running a fever hotter than the core of Mustafar, but Hux is still cold, as per usual.

Hux decides that there is little more to be done for Kylo, and that if he dies it will not have been preventable, and he will not be blamed. There is enough evidence to show that Hux made an effort, and that is all that should be expected. He settles back onto the floor and wraps his coat tightly around his shoulders. It's practically radiating Ren's warmth, and Hux is almost overwhelmed by the smell of him lingering on the fabric. He pulls a face. Of course, Ren smells mostly of sweat, like Hux was expecting, but what shocks him is the fact that it isn't a bad smell, as much as he tries to convince himself so. There's something sharp and intimate about it that sears into Hux's chest in a very unpleasant way.

He forces himself to sleep very quickly, eager to purge his mind of unnecessary thoughts, and tells himself he'll have his coat washed as soon as morning comes.


	4. Chapter 4

Kylo wakes up to semi-darkness and silence, and sits up sharply. He's regretting it a second later, when vertigo hits him hard and he's flushing all over again in the most sickly way, but he's still infuriated at not knowing his whereabouts. He's no longer in the medical bay: there are no droids about, but he's hardly well again. The bandages pressing down on his abdomen need changing, they feel heavy and damp, and there is sweat seated into the mattress below him.

The sheets under him smell familiar, but not in a particularly comforting way. The room is large and the space is used well, but he doesn't recognise the layout, although it's rather similar to his own quarters. He realises, moments later (curse his fever-slowed mind), that he is in an officer's personal chambers.

There's nothing he feels that he can singularly distinguish from the mass of confusion in his head. He wants to go back to sleep, but he's burning up and shivering with chills and he knows he won't be able to settle until his body decides on an extreme and sticks with it. He tries to stand up, but his limbs feel tight and heavy, too stiff for him to move them, and he sniffs and slides back into a slouch. He doesn't know how long he waits until Hux comes through the door and orders him to lie down without even looking up from the holo-pad in his hand.

It doesn't take him long to realise that this is Hux's room, even with his foggy mind. The smell on the sheets is Hux, the ridiculous order in what could easily be an untidy space is all Hux, and Kylo doesn't know how he could have possibly thought that it could be somebody else.

"Your organs are mostly clean of infection," Hux says. His gaze is fixed on the pad but his eyes aren't focused—he isn't reading from it. "However, you're in desperate need of a wash and a bandage change, and we're still waiting for your fever to break."

Ren makes an aborted rasping sound, clearly unable to speak, and Hux taps at the pad. He takes a step closer to the bed, and finally looks up, and Kylo can't stand the eye contact even for a second, and closes his eyes, black and white pinpricks dancing on the back of his eyelids. He feels the heat of the fever flush through him again, and Hux presses a thermometer to his mouth, apparently having noticed. Kylo opens his mouth, because there's little else he can do. After a few moments, Hux takes the thermometer back and drops it into a waste bin under the tray in the corner of the room. He leaves a rush of clean smelling air behind him, and Kylo coughs. The scent of soap is overpowering, like Hux washed his coat too many times.

"I don't doubt that you're wondering why you're here," Hux says from the other side of the room.

Hux is far away enough, and Kylo decides that he's safe to open his eyes—but the room is far brighter than he remembered, and his eyes ache in their sockets, so in moments he's closing them again.

"You're very sick, according to your chart, and the droids weren't doing a good enough job caring for you—you need near-constant supervision."

"And that's going to be enforced by you?" Kylo croaks.

Hux straightens his shirt. "I hardly trust anyone else with the job." He sniffs. "You know it pains me so to admit it, but you are a valuable asset to this organisation."

"Did Phasma put you up to it?"

Hux is insulted, but also rather pleased that Kylo is understanding of the fact that he didn't do this out of kindness, but out of obligation to protect the First Order. "She's far too busy with the Troopers to be interfering with a matter like this. I took things into my own hands."

Ren scoffs, and rolls over. The movement sends a sharp pain through his stomach, and he clamps his mouth shut, unwilling to show any signs of weakness.

Every inch of his body is aching, and every inch of his skin is cold, and the blanket is crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Kylo wishes it was Phasma in the room with him so he didn't have to feel so weak asking for things. In the end, though, he doesn't even have to ask. Hux follows his line of vision with narrowed eyes, and stoops to lift the blanket off the floor and spread it over the bed. Kylo does not thank him. "Everything reeks of you," he says instead. "Couldn't you have found somewhere else to put me?"

"Hardly," Hux says. "You know we're short of bunks. I had to sleep on the floor."

"You slept in here?"

There is clear irritation in Hux's voice when he replies, "Of course, where else did you expect me to go?"

Ren is surprised that Hux didn't wake him in all the time he was here. He could mistake it for consideration, but he knows that that would be far too naive. "I'm sure you could find somewhere. On top of a missile, perhaps."

Hux seethes; he knows Ren would be laughing that odd trembling laugh of his if he hadn't started being sick all over the floor. Hux swiftly leaves before Ren can look up, and calls in some droids for cleaning. Deciding that Ren's IV can be changed later and that he shan't check in on him until tomorrow, Hux makes for the control deck and disappears from the living quarters. He has a meeting with Snoke soon, anyway, and he will hardly be on time if he's all the way down in his chambers.

—

Kylo Ren is a man far too absorbed in his own reality to consider anyone else's, and everybody aboard the Finalizer knows it. Every member of the First Order is grounded; it's a fairly essential requirement, but Ren is grounded in a rather different way, and it happens to be a way that's of absolutely no fucking use to anyone below him—which is, essentially, every single person on the Finalizer. Ren is only grounded for things that are of interest to him.

Hux is not of questionable rank, he is a general, and hardly below someone with no rank at all. Most of the time he is in control. But Kylo is a _favourite,_ and that's worth far more to the Supreme Leader than years of service and hard work and a strong mind.

This much, Hux has learned, in the time that Ren has been a part of Snoke's plans—that a volatile and self destructive _favourite_ will always be worth more than a silly little soldier. 'Replaceable', Snoke had called him. Thick skin doesn't begin to cover the desensitisation General Hux has undergone in his lifetime of service to the First Order, but that one word had hurt. Hux knows it's a lie; he's the oldest and most valuable member of the Order, but it had hurt nonetheless.

After that frankly painful meeting with Snoke, Hux had finally understood: his hate for Ren was merely a matter of circumstance, and as soon as Snoke changed his tastes in weaponry (because that's all that Kylo was, a weapon), Ren would be disposed of and Hux's potential would no longer be compared to that child on his hateful rampage. He had thought that this realisation would change things between him and the boy, make it easier to manage his outbursts and selfish remarks—yet here he is, efficiently disciplining Ren with the general anaesthetic again because he'd fancied himself all better and tried to Force choke Hux again (to no avail this time).

"You are scum," Hux spits as he holds the needle to Kylo's arm so he cannot pull it free. "You will never learn."

Ren gives him a drained half smile, full of the malice that is so familiar to Hux. "I don't need to learn," he slurs. "I'm already great."

"You don't understand at all, do you?" Hux says, incredulous at Kylo's absorption in the present. "You're a favourite. You won't be his favourite forever. He's desperate to protect you now, but as soon as this is over, you'll have no rank as persuasion not to terminate you."

Ren blinks slowly, a deep furrow in his brow. "But I'm great," he says, his arm beginning to go limp in Hux's tight grip. Hux does not gentle his touch. 

"While he needs you, you are," Hux says. He watches Ren's head slump back and his eyes shut. His mouth stays half open, and Hux can see his chest rising and falling under the white hospital tunic as he breathes steadily. He doesn't think he has ever seen Ren breathe evenly before, and he can't help but look. Ren looks almost peaceful. It's a phenomenon. Hux sits down on the chair beside the bed, and doesn't let go of Ren's arm.

He's still there an hour later, still there when he should be up on the control deck, but he can't look away from where his hand is fixed on Ren's wrist.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Kylo's fever breaks early in the morning, and finally he feels close to healthy again; Hux has been absent since the middle of the night when he disappeared. Kylo is not sure if the two things have any correlation. Kylo hardly retains any memory of him being there, and even less of him leaving, but he does recall most of an argument, with... _words,_ and an astounding level of condescension in Hux's voice—but there's little new there, he supposes.

Two new droids he does not recognise stand by the bed; one of them is changing his IV. He's certain that Hux said that he wasn't to be left alone and that the droids are useless, and it's unlike Hux to be contradictory, but then again, it's also terribly out of character for Hux to abandon duty in Kylo's favour, so perhaps there is nothing amiss at all.

Kylo is pleased with himself at his intelligent reasoning, but that still does not explain why he has been feeling so much better since Hux left. Perhaps it's as simple as that: a little separation from General Hux was all he needed.

—

Hux feels like he can finally breathe again, and it is glorious. Distance from the hideous insect that is Kylo Ren is a very precious thing as of late, and it took something special to rid him of the chore of caring for the boy.

Drugs are in short supply on the Finalizer; everything is rationed since no trade company will supply them, and even the First Order knows that big trade companies are not to be reckoned with if they want to keep on eating, even if it is in rations—but Hux is clever (Hux is willing to abuse the system and flaunt it so far as to even have Stormtroopers bring illegitimately obtained supplies to him in his room). He manages to find something, something good, and slips it under Ren's tongue while he is sleeping. He knows there will be two possible outcomes: Kylo will choke, or involuntarily take the medicine. Luckily (Hux supposes), Ren swallows the pill, and Hux waits and waits until the fever dulls, then leaves without a sound.

He doesn't think about what he has done. It was for his own sake—of course it was. He talks to Snoke—on his own, probably for the last time now that Ren is well again—and tells him that he sent a few Troopers to hijack one of the smaller trade routes and fetch the medication for him, and the Supreme Leader is pleased. As pleased as someone so _supremely_ hateful can be.

"It was nothing but my duty, Supreme Leader," Hux tells Snoke.

Snoke tells him to send Ren to him without haste as soon as his condition has improved. Hux assumes it's to inform him of some special mission while Hux remains excluded as per usual. He doesn't go back to his chambers to check on the state Ren is in until late in the evening, when he finds his bed empty (and unmade and reeking of Kylo). He sends a comm asking it to be reported to the Supreme Leader that Ren is well again.

Hux changes into his simple nightclothes and settles into his bed; it feels odd, and he realises that he is accustomed to sleeping on the floor. He reaches for his coat to wrap around himself and mask the smell of Ren with regulation soap, but finds it missing from where he left it. "Careful, Ren," he mutters, like so many times before, and settles to go to sleep.

—

It's weeks until Ren finds out that Hux is the reason he's well again, and not still limp in a bed in a tangle of wires. He wants to deal with it in a rage—how _dare_ Hux suppress this vital detail?—but all he can manage to feel is a sense of great debt to the General. He's hardly thankful, but debt is something greatly recognised in the First Order. Although Ren doesn't bow to duty, he may bend to debt.

Ren appears at Hux's chamber door immediately after Hux's shift ends. Hux scowls when he hears Ren's voice through the comm—clearly it isn't enough just to invade his space, now he has to go sifting through Hux's thoughts too. Ren is hardly a man to simply check a schedule, he must do everything the least convenient way possible; Hux knows he was in his head.

Hux examines the residue of Ren's prodding: everything is still in relative order, but things always seem to shift a little in some inexplicable way when Ren touches his mind. He lifts his holo-pad from the small desk in front of him and taps the button for the door. Ren marches in, which Hux doesn't enjoy, although it's fortunately less of a terrible strut than usual.

"What exactly," Hux says in a smooth voice, "are you here for?"

Ren is in full gear, mask and cloak and all, and Hux thinks of how terribly out of place the boy must look in his own room dressed so heavily. Hux wonders if he has nightclothes, if he sleeps with his lightsaber on his belt.

"I'm repaying my debt," Ren says, that damnably irritating helmet removing any emotional tells.

"What debt?" Hux asks. "What on earth—"

Ren lifts a crumpled piece of paper out from under his belt, and works on unfolding it with his clumsy leather gloves still on. "I have information regarding your parents."

"I am a general in the First Order, Ren. I gave my life to reach this position. Why would I bear even a shred of concern for people that helped me get nowhere at all?"

There's a cold hiss of air and a mechanical click as Ren lifts his helmet off. Underneath, his face is blanched, and blemished, and up close Hux can see how his wide lip trembles before he speaks. "Your mother," Ren says. His voice is unsteady without the modulator, but Hux doesn't think it's due to emotion. "She's dead."

The word 'mother' still conjures up an inexplicable flood of feeling in Hux, and vague memories so patchy he isn't sure they're real. He can hardly care for his mother when he knows what he feels is most likely induced by the mere definition of the word and how it is supposed to make one feel, but he can't help the stab of pain just below his throat at Ren's words.

"I don't know why you thought I would be interested in this information," Hux says.

Ren continues as if Hux hadn't spoken. "A separatist battalion took out a large portion of the planet she had been taking refuge on for the last decade or so."

"Ren, I have never even known my mother. Pray tell, you don't think I care about this?"

"Here is a copy of her file," Ren says quietly. He sets the piece of paper down on Hux's storage container. "There's not much there, but I thought you deserved to see it."

"Leave my quarters, Ren." Hux clasps his hands and rests them in his lap impatiently. _"Leave,_ child," he enforces, when Ren does not move.

The alleged knight takes a dull glance at Hux as he replaces his helmet, and walks out, rather modestly.

Hux unbuckles his boots and leaves them by the door, and sits down on the end of his bed. The half-folded paper sits on the storage unit. Hux can make out some of the larger typeface from where he is, but he isn't curious. He does not read it.

It's late, his shift was the last available, and he lies back on the bed. He remembers about his coat, and notes that next time he sees Ren he will demand for it back. None of his subsequent thoughts are particularly relevant, and he sleeps.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to kudos/comment/bookmark and check out my tumblr huxamidala to make my day!! i also have a kylux rec blog, kyluxfics :-)


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